


Thoughts in hindsight

by thequidditchpitch_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Heterosexual Sex, Romance, The Quidditch Pitch: Erotic Couplings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-02-03
Updated: 2007-03-14
Packaged: 2018-10-26 14:24:22
Rating: ExplicitMature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10788519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thequidditchpitch_archivist/pseuds/thequidditchpitch_archivist
Summary: Ron reflects on his life with Hermione, with the benefit of hindsight.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Annie, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015 when the hosting expired, at a time I was not able to renew it. I contacted Open Doors, hoping to preserve the archive using an old backup, and began importing these works as an Open Doors-approved project in April 2017. Open Doors e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Quidditch Pitch collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thequidditchpitch/profile).

I don't know how it happened. One minute I was sat there just thinking about nothing at all and suddenly it hit me. Years later people said they always knew it would happen, they just wondered how long it would take me or her or both of us to either realise by means of some divine miracle or just stumble into realisation. Some thought it would never happen and we would end up being a lost cause with too much baggage to see past it and into the clear and undeniable truth. 

  

Maybe we would have ended up that way. Though really I don't think we've ‘ended up' _any_ way. We're still learning things about each other even though we've known each other longer than I can remember now. It's strange but although I know exactly when I met her for the first time and I know how old I was when that happened, somehow I don't seem to have any memories of life without her. Even if I think back really hard to my early childhood when I know she wasn't there, it still seems somehow that she was. I suppose it's almost like she was just a part of me that I hadn't discovered yet. People get that all the time right? Discovering a part of themselves that they didn't know before, I'm not being soppy, it's the truth. I like I didn't know I liked Firewhisky until I tried it in my teens, but when I did I knew I would always like it afterwards. Just another thing about me I didn't know.

  

Ok so it's not quite the same but I'm not that good at explaining things, as you know. Maybe if I were then what I have with her now wouldn't have taken so long. But in a way I'm glad it did, I think if I'd have been a bit more in tune with my own feelings and less in denial, I'd have realised she was different and I wanted her for myself years before I actually did. Just think about how things might have been different if we'd have got together at 14. It might have been just another one of those silly early teen romances that seem like such a big deal at the time but are really just practicing for the big game later on. 

  

So I'm glad we waited because with her it's never practice, it's always the real thing and it breaks my heart to think back at all those times I hurt her or made her feel anything less than the goddess that she is to me. She always has been. It hurts even more when I think about all those times I nearly lost her, either by my own stupidity or at the hands of someone else. Even then I don't think I could have made it through if I really lost her, and she's part of me now more than ever. I just thank the stars that now, after everything I can tell her how much she means to me without blushing (much) or stumbling over my words and I can try my best to make her understand how much I love her. 

  

Of course if she read this she'd probably cry, or worse stick her bottom lip out and go ‘awwww you're just a big softie really!' and make fun of me. Either would be ok, though I'd prefer neither! My one consolation is that she only cries tears of laughter or happiness because of me these days and those I can handle. I just take her in my arms and tell her once again that I love her. Merlin knows she's cried too many tears of pain by my making and I hope never to bring those on again. 

  

Not that I'm a saint by any stretch of the imagination, I'm still the same person, I'm just a more whole person with her in my life. I say ‘more whole' for a reason. When we first became a couple I thought I would never love anyone more. It was like the missing piece to the puzzle had been found at last and now I had everything I needed to live. 

  

Now things have changed. Now I look at that picture that once had just me in it, which then had her in it too and now I see something else missing. A gap that wasn't there before, that only just appeared last week when Hermione told me we were going to be parents. Now there's a little space between us where our child belongs. A space that will be filled in a few short months time by our son or daughter, and then I'll be whole again. 

  

It all seems so easy now. When I was at school and I thought about growing up and having a wife and children, all I could see was her. It scared me so much it made me feel sick! It all seemed so difficult to handle. Of course we had bigger worries back then, but just ignoring the obvious life-threatening distractions, it seems too big a task to make it happen, to make _us_ happen. Half the time she wasn't even talking to me! Hardly the ideal way to convince someone to be your wife and have your children! Obviously I never told anyone how I felt; it was too big for even me to cope with back then. It's odd how it was all so easy in the end.

  

I love how it happened. It was almost like we fell into it one summer's day. Considering how everything in our lives at that time and everything in or relationship was dramatic or in the worse case tragic. It's funny how danger brings people closer. We'd fought and bickered for so long, misunderstanding each other, making assumptions (ok so that was mostly me) and now seeing what was right in front of our faces. 

  

Then I nearly died. When I woke up in the hospital wing all I could think about was Hermione. When Harry told me what had happened I nearly burst out crying. Partly because I nearly died, partly because my best mate with all his troubles, saved my life, but mostly because I almost, almost never saw her again. 

  

It was at that point when it really hit me. It was so nearly over; I was so close to not ever telling her how I felt about her. When she came in to see me her eyes were red and her hair was messy. Her robes were crumpled and she looked like she hadn't slept for a week. I could have kissed her she looked so amazing. 

  

There have been many times in my life when Hermione has totally taken my breath away. The first was at the Yule Ball; I know I know what a prat I was! But she did look stunning and I was so jealous it made me sick. 

  

The second was that time in the hospital wing when she sat on my bed, took my hand in hers and just looked at me, square in the eyes without saying a word. She had tears falling out her eyes but she didn't look away, she just looked at me until I felt like I might almost die again. 

  

She made me tell her I was sorry for hurting her without saying anything and when I did her face crumpled a little and she raised my hand to her lips and kissed the back softly. She stood up and walked away from me, at the end of the bed she turned and looked back, then she said ‘I'm glad you're alright Ron, I couldn't bear to lose you.' Then she walked away and I just sat there in a daze. 

  

The third time was at Bill and Fleur's wedding. The dress she wore made me ache for her. I hardly spoke to her all afternoon simply because even looking at her made my throat constrict so much I thought I might pass out. She thought I'd fallen out with her but seeing as after the poisoning thing and the death of Dumbledore, we'd had a chat about our friendship and how we should make more of an effort to not fall out so much, she approached me in the evening to find out what was wrong. 

  

We were in the back garden, it was a warm evening and the sun was just setting and giving everything an orange glow. The summer flowers made the garden smell sweet; it still amazes me that I can remember these things! She asked to talk to me in private so we walked to the bottom of the garden behind the trees and sat on the boundary wall. She asked me why I wasn't talking to her, I denied it. She asked me if she had done something wrong, I denied it. She asked me why I couldn't look at her; I denied it (but didn't look at her anyway). She asked if it was because I didn't like what she was wearing or if I even wanted her there at all! Her voice was desperate and full of sadness and I don't know if I was the evening air or the butterbeer or the threat of impending doom or just the day that did it but I told her that she looked beautiful and I that I didn't want her to be anywhere else other than where she was right now, with me. 

  

She blushed and flattened the skirt of her dress down and asked me if I meant that. I mumbled that I did (though I was so damn embarrassed that I wanted the ground to open up and swallow me whole!). Then she took my breath away. She stood up and walked in front of me where I was sitting on the wall. She looked at me, right in the eye like in the hospital wing, and then she kissed me. It was so soft and so brief I hardly had time to register what she was doing. Almost instantly she backed away and with a quiet ‘thank you Ron.' She turned to walk back to the house. 

  

I couldn't move for a second. Then it hit me again, that undeniable feeling that then was the time for action. So despite the fact that her kiss had made me so hard it hurt, I jumped up and ran after her. She didn't get very far and thankfully we were still hidden by the trees when I reached out, took her arm, spun her round and kissed her hard on the mouth.

  

Later, much later she would tell me that in that moment she had never felt more shocked, scared and turned on in her life up until then (even when she kissed Viktor Krum! Ha!), I felt the same. When we broke apart her eyes were still closed and her mouth was slightly parted. She whispered my name in a way that I had never heard anyone speak it before, and then she opened her beautiful eyes and kissed me again. This time we were both prepared, neither shocked and as she lifted her arms around my shoulders mine went around her waist and we pulled each other closer so that we were tight together and kissed like it was our dying breath.

  

It was incredible and nothing like I ever thought it would be. I stupidly assumed that kissing one person would be the same as kissing any other, oh how I was wrong. Kissing Hermione was and is like nothing I can describe accurately enough. Lavender was all tongue, spit, lips, hands and moaning. Hermione is sweet, soft, sexy and loving. When she kisses me I feel instantly calm, like I'm flying high on my broom where no one knows where I am. 

  

Sure she _can_ be all the things Lavender was but with Hermione its special when it's like that, it's not always like that and when it is, I don't feel like I've had something taken away from me or like I've been violated or something. I feel like I'm privileged to see the side of Hermione that loses control and gives in to her sexual side. Most of all I feel free when we are like that together and the best thing is although we've both kissed other people, she is the only person I've slept with and I'm her only one too. No one knows what it's like to be with her apart from me and I'll let you in to a secret, she's incredible.

  

When a life together became something we knew we could have rather than something we daren't wish for in case it was taken away from us, we moved in together. It was great; for once in my life I had my own space with some peace and quiet at home if I wanted it. Best of all she was there with me. For the first few weeks we did nothing, just slept late, made plans and enjoyed just being together for as long as we liked without that many interruptions. 

  

Those were the best times in our relationship, those first weeks alone together. I dedicated myself to the task of finding out everything I didn't know about Hermione and I think, if I do say so myself, that I was a pretty good student. I learned what it was to fall asleep with her in my arms, wrapped tightly around me with her head on my chest. She taught me about her body and made me understand that despite all the advice your brothers give you, you know nothing until she shows you how. 

  

I learned how to talk to her again. I know that sounds silly but in those moments when you've laid your body and soul out for another person, poured yourself into giving them the best pleasure that you know how and known that they have done the same to you. In those blissful moments when the world is calm and satisfied and your heart feels full of love and adoration, those are the times when I learned to talk to her again. 

  

We would talk about everything; our hypothetical marriage, who we would invite from school and from the order, who we wouldn't and why (It seems Lavender was off the invite list!), what we would wear, what we would say to each other. She cried a little when she told me she wanted Harry to give her away in the absence of her own father, one of the many Muggle victims claimed by the war. Then she even apologised for being ‘selfish' because _of course_ I would want him to be my best man. I told her not to be daft and that I have more brothers than you could shake a wand at, any of which would be happy to be best man, they'd probably fight over it! None of whom would be a bad substitute. I thought it was a great idea. Harry needed to be a part of whatever we do anyway, how could he not be? We wouldn't be us without him. So often in his life he's been pushed aside and hurt beyond what anyone should have to endure. He's such a prat sometimes too but we love him, I love him and as we planed our hypothetical marriage, we agreed that Harry will be right in the middle of it so we can prove to him yet again how much he means to us, even if he can be a git.

  

We talked about kids, our kids. About how many, what their names would be (Hermione made a really bad joke about calling our first-born son Viktor....it was not amusing), what they would look like (to be ginger or not to be ginger....that is the question), who they would take after, what they would grow up to be (All brainy Quidditch players I think), even how hard it would be to send them off to Hogwarts when they were 11. All these silly things that seemed so far away then, we talked about them. 

  

She told me her secrets, things she'd never told anyone. About her life before Hogwarts, being a Muggle child. Having few friends because people thought she was odd. Strange things would happen around her that people couldn't explain and that made her an outcast until Hogwarts. 

  

She knew what my life was like; she'd seen it enough. We talked about our life with each other. She told me about school and how it was when she knew she was in love with me and I blushed! I blushed even though we were naked together in our bed having just touched, kissed and teased each other into a mad frenzy and brought each other to intense and gasping climax. After being so open with each other and not being embarrassed but enlightened by it, I blushed when she told me that there wasn't _ever_ a time when she didn't love me. That she started loving me in the first year and it never went away, it just grew and grew until she recognised it for what it was and after denying it for so long when she gave in to it, it was such a relief to know I felt the same and she still loves me more each day even now. I told her I'd just fallen in love with her more just for saying that, and then she blushed too.

  

As ever, life catches up with you and we both got jobs. Work restraints meant we couldn't spend as much time together as we were used to and after a while it got us both down. Our arguments about the clashing working hours and never having time for each other grew more and more fierce. 

  

One night it started because she'd only been home half an hour before I left for work, as it had been for the last three weeks. She accused me of being distant when we were together and asked me if I still wanted her. The long and short of it was; I shouted at her that I loved her but there was nothing I could do about it and she was being a cow. I told her if she didn't stop trying to blame everything on me then I'd leave her. In truth I said a lot of other things I didn't mean out of frustration and guilt, which hurt too much even now to write down.

 


	2. Chapter 2

I've never felt as bad in my life as I did when she looked at me in those few seconds after I'd finished. She walked past me into our bedroom, shut the door behind her and cried. I could hear her from the hallway but I didn't try to go to her, I just walked past the door and left. I was so ashamed. I quit my job that night and was back at home within an hour. 

 

When I got there, she'd gone. I shot around the floo network for an hour looking for her. I started at Harry's, who said she wasn't there and looked genuinely panicked at the prospect of us breaking up, like we were his parents about to tell him we were divorcing! After trying Ginny's flat, Lupin's and Neville's, I even tried The Burrow, knowing she wouldn't be there but becoming desperate by this point. 

 

Finally, I set off from the house on foot. I walked for hours and hours round all the places we used to go, the park, the Leaky Cauldron, Diagon Alley when all the shops had closed for the night. The longer it took to find her, the more petrified I became that I had lost her for good. When it started raining I didn't notice, I just wandered home with no idea where to look next. I'd decided to try the floo network again, as it had been several hours since I'd last tried by then.

 

When I opened the door to our flat, the first thing I noticed was her old Hogwarts trunk in the hall. I raced through the building shouting her name, my heart thumping and panic tearing through me. She was in the sitting room, standing at the fireplace with her overcoat on, looking like she was about to leave. She had just dropped something on the floor; obviously, I'd startled her. She didn't know I'd quit my job and so she'd not expected me home for a few hours yet. It seemed she planned not to be there when I was due to be back. 

 

I ran over to her and dropped to my knees. I've never cried so much in my life as I did that night. I begged and begged her not to leave me, while clutching her legs and sobbing out how much I loved her. I told her I'd quit my job and would get another one with better hours so we could be together. I asked her to take a week off while I was out of work so we could go away for a few days and remember what it was like to only have each other as a distraction. 

 

I told her I missed her and I was sorry, that I would do anything to get her to stay because I'd die without her. 

 

She touched my hair to sooth me and eventually I stopped talking and silently held onto her as if I would drown in my own misery if I let go, tears pouring down my face, waiting for her answers. I glanced down as what she had been looking at with I came back. It was the photo of Hermione and me taken after the war had ended. We were both filthy, covered from head to toe in mud, cuts and bruises, our clothes torn in places. A reporter took it hours after the battle ended and it appeared in the Daily Prophet the day after. Mum spotted it contacted them to get a copy. She had it framed and gave it to us for Christmas. It remained on our mantel as a reminder of what we had fought for. The figures in the picture continued to hold each other tenderly, kissing gently every now and then; but the glass was now smashed and the frame bent.

 

It was then that I felt her body shake, her knees buckled and she dropped to the floor in front of me. She wrapped her arms around me and sobbed. She told me she had apperated to the park after I left because she couldn't stand to stay in our bed where she could smell me, or be in the house where everything reminded her of me. She'd gone to Harry's after and when he had told her I'd been looking for her she'd said she was leaving me and it was over. She was going to stay with him for a while, that's why her trunk was packed. It seemed we'd been to the same places but missed each other. 

 

She told me off for quitting my job. I told her it was only a job and she meant more to me than anything and it was no sacrifice to make to find another, when the alternative was losing the love of your life. She cried again after that, and so did I. 

 

After a while, I took my wand and fixed the glass in the picture. The frame is still bent even now, either one of us could have fixed it but it stands as a reminder of how close we came to breaking up. When we kissed for the first time after that, it was like our first kiss all over again. Back when I'd first kissed her; it was such an amazing feeling of happiness and relief. 

 

I flooed Harry and thanked him for being a mate and offering Hermione a place to stay. His hands were shaking as I told him about my actions earlier that night, and that we were going away for a short break to try to get back on track. 

 

He looked terrified when he asked me if I thought it would work out and when I told him I thought it would be fine, he nodded solemnly and hid his face. 

 

He's been through so much, just looking at him then made me want to cry again. Instead, I crossed the room and embraced him. He buried his head in my neck and drew a great shuddering breath. My heart nearly broke when he told me he didn't think he could stand to see Hermione and I as miserable as he had done that night. He'll deny the whole hugging and crying thing ever happened if you asked him of course!

 

The next day Hermione booked a week off work and we rented a cottage in Dorset for the following week. The intervening time between our fight and the start of our holiday was stretched. I didn't know what to say to her and she seemed to withdraw from me a little. I resolved to not spend my time off sat on my ass, so I called in a few favors regarding employment, went to see a few people, caught up on things I'd neglected. While Hermione was at work, I visited my parents, my brothers and Ginny, who slapped me round the face for making a mess of things with Hermione, then kissed me on the cheek and hugged the air out of me for doing the right thing after. 

 

Most of all I scrubbed our house from ceiling to floor and did all the odd jobs I'd promised I'd do but never did. Dinner was ready for her every night when she arrived home and a hot bath always on call, waiting to be called into action.

 

The week away was just what we needed, though I do admit it was awkward to start with. I think we both realised it was the first time since the end of the war that we had been alone together without life or anything else getting in the way. 

 

The first night we lay in bed and talked. I told her what I'd been up to in the past week; about the possible jobs I had cooking. This cheered her up and although we didn't make love that night, it felt for the first time in ages like we were not going through the motions.

 

The second night, after we'd had a nice meal at a local restaurant, we made love; well we tried to anyway. Now I'm a grown man and I've been with Hermione for a good while now. We've been through the apprehension and tension at the beginning of our relationship and we got past it. We made our discoveries together and it was as embarrassing and fumbling as it should have been. We also got over that and grew as a couple to the point where, without sounding cocky, I knew just about everything about how to get the best from her. Don't get me wrong, she knows about me too, but I'm not half as complex as her. However, that night it was like being 18 again. We bumped our noses when we kissed. Instead of sensually nipping her skin, I bit her too hard and she cried out in pain! She caught me with her teeth (which hurt!), I was a little to enthusiastic with my fingers for her liking and she yanked my hair so hard I though I'd have none left! 

 

In the end she started laughing at how absurd we were and then it just descended into anarchy and we gave it up as a bad job! The morning came and we tried again and it was fantastic.

 

We came back from that trip to find Harry and Ginny in our house with dinner on. They announced that after spending a while talking about our relationship that they'd started thinking about their own. They announced that they were getting back together, it now being some time since their Hogwarts days. Dinner was to celebrate the mending of one relationship and the rekindling of another.

 

That night, in front of my sister and Harry, I asked Hermione to marry me. I didn't mean to! I didn't have a ring or a speech or anything like that. It's just that Harry was going on about how he's determined not to waste any more time like he had done in the past few years, and that he can finally see a direction and future for himself in Ginny. 

 

Hermione clutched his hand across the table, then stood up and embraced him. Ginny looked so happy and Harry, as ever, looked embarrassed that he'd even mentioned it. 

 

When Hermione sat back down she took my hand and kissed my cheek. I looked over at Harry, who smiled back and took Ginny's hand. Then it just sort of slipped out! I looked right at Harry and said ‘Will you marry me?' The three of them gasped, Harry looking halfway between running and laughing. Of course I realised my mistake and turned to Hermione, her hand shook in mine. I asked again, while looking at the right person this time. She nodded quickly and whispered a quick yes before wrapping her arms around my neck and breaking down into sobs. 

 

I'm told that Gin also cried and Harry asked indignantly whether my engagement to him was off, seeing as I asked Hermione too and she said yes. However, I can't really remember much after that apart from shouting thank you and good night to Harry and Gin, then carrying Hermione to our bed.

 


	3. Chapter 3

Three months later I married her.

 

It wasn’t grand or expensive but it was perfect and ours. Harry gave her away as planned and my brothers fought over who should be best man. I decided I didn’t want to offend any of them by asking one person, so I’d let them fight it over and whoever made it to the alter on time was good enough for me. Charlie had been Bill’s best man so he bowed out early saying someone else should have a go. Bill said he loved me but he felt like he’d be taking it away from the others if he did it, just because of our age difference (which I thought was a crap excuse). Perce, well, he just said it wouldn’t be right for it to be him. That left the twins, which wasn’t easy to work out it seems. Unlike the others, the twins only came up with reasons as to why the other shouldn’t do it, not why it should be someone else. In the end they couldn’t decide and so they drew straws. Fred won. On the day though he came over with a wave of guilt towards George and I had two best men, which was fine with me.

 

Ginny looked stunning in her maid of honour robes, I told her so and she started crying! Honestly I don’t understand women sometimes! She sobered up when she saw Harry in his fancy dress robes though. I swear with the look she gave him I’m so glad I’m crap at occlumency!

 

Harry escorted a terrified but strangely ecstatic looking Hermione to the alter. She looked resplendent and more beautiful that day than I’d ever seen before.

 

The ceremony was lovely. We exchanged our vows and mum made everyone laugh by raucously blowing her nose during a quiet point; the twins were in stitches. 

 

As the “father” of the bride, or at least his substitute, Harry made a great speech that had most people crying. He mentioned Hermione’s parents and how proud they were of her when they were alive, and how awed they would be of her now. He said he’d never known love until he met me and Hermione and after all the pain and loss everyone had suffered, it gave a purpose and a meaning to see us together. 

 

Of course then Fred and George stepped up and thanked Harry for being so cheerful and fuelling the celebration so well with his unique style! They seemed to take the fact that they had a captive audience and Hermione and I as a focus, as an opportunity to humiliate me as much as possible. So off they went for longer than I care to mention, about how I would pine for her in school holidays, murmur her name in my sleep, stare at her in the common room with I thought no one was looking, practice kissing on my pillow (not true), how I agonised about the ‘perfume’ incident, how I nearly dropped dead with lust at the start of the damn Yule Ball and how if I hadn’t made a move when I did, it might be one of them sat where I was today!!! Although to her credit, Hermione looked shocked and shook her head vigorously at the prospect.

 

After, we danced together and with just about everyone else too (Charlie tells me I have a very good style). Mum was embarrassingly emotional and kept saying things like ‘my little Ronnie’ and ‘my baby boy’ all the time, which the twins found hilarious until she gave them both sloppy wet kisses and made them dance with her. 

 

Gin was surprisingly touchy feely with me. She kept hugging me and brushing my hair out of my eyes. I’d have got annoyed with her if she hadn’t looked so nice in her dress and besides, she told me I looked handsome in my formal robes so I let her off. 

 

Dad took Hermione to one side at one point during the reception. I thought this was a bit odd at the time, but to be honest I was a bit preoccupied with watching Harry somewhat reluctantly dance with my mum to really pay attention. I found out from her later that he’d been giving her his own private welcome into the Weasley clan; he was very ‘sweet’ apparently and he said some nice things about me so that wasn’t so bad, even if Hermione was dabbing her eyes when she came back. 

 

Later that evening we set off for our honeymoon. Seamus acted as MC and _forced_ me to get on stage to say goodbye. I thanked everyone for coming and thanked Hermione for marrying me and making my mum a very happy woman for taking me off her hands! It got a laugh so she wasn’t upset.

 

As we left we both got hugs, kisses and congratulations from pretty much everyone. Harry waited until last and he looked about ready to cry as he stood by the door. Hermione embraced him generously and he buried his head in her hair. When she let go he stood there looking just like that lost little lad trying to figure out how to get on to platform 9 ¾ all those years ago; abandoned and all alone in the world. One gesture with my hand was all it took to have him throw himself at me and squeeze the air from my lungs. 

 

He told me he was happy for me, for us, even if this was the first big thing that we had both done without him since we were 11. The stupid sod felt like we were leaving him! Hermione’s always been the more intuitive one and when she joined us in an odd sort of three-way hug, she kissed Harry on the cheek and told him we’d always be there for him and nothing could change that.

 

Of course Gin made it better by telling him to let us go and stop being a miserable git. He smiled then and pushed us out the door; I only looked back for one second to see him kissing Gin, Mum and Dad smiling behind them and waving us on.

 

Our honeymoon was great. It’s not really a wizard thing to do, or rather it is but it’s not called a honeymoon, it’s just a sort of holiday. We kept it simple, a week on the south coast and a week at home. The second week wasn’t much of a holiday though as we spent most of it decorating, but the first week was amazing. I have never had so many orgasms in my life! We have never had an inactive sex life. Ever since we took that step we haven’t looked back. 

 

Sometimes it takes a bit of effort to get Hermione to switch off and just enjoy herself but this week it took no effort at all. She seemed to give herself over to it and she was insatiable. On four of the seven mornings we were there, she woke me up with soft kisses and tender licks in the most delicious places. It almost makes me blush just thinking about the things we did that week, almost, mostly it just makes me hard. As for me, well I always feel like a worshiper at the temple of Hermione and I haven’t had any complaints yet, just the odd suggestion here and there, not even that these days.

 

When we both went back to work, life settled down. Harry and Gin decided to get engaged, though I heard Harry was so nervous and emotional when he asked Gin to marry him that she took charge of the situation and asked him in the end. Either way one or both of them said yes and that was that. Mum went ballistic with wedding plans (again) and the twins went ballistic with stag night plans (again). 

 

Sometimes I would work late a few too many nights in a row or Hermione would find herself bringing work home and burying herself in books for hours after she should be in bed. At those times that little twisted frame on the mantle reminds us both that there are some things that are more important and because of that we both made a bigger effort to not push things too far. 

 

Slowly things started to change between us. 

 

Harry married Ginny on a bright summer day, then paid for mum and dad to go on a long holiday in the sun as a thank you for being there for him. Mum cried her heart out. Of course Fred lightened the mood by commenting that he wouldn’t be surprised if Ginny had to ask her own father if she could have his permission to marry Harry, not the other way round. 

 

I was best man of course. My speech was funny, witty and just a little bit sentimental but not too much. Harry gave me a hug and told me he loved me; though he said it quietly so I don’t think anyone else heard him. Gin said she was proud of me for not making a prat of myself; I’m not sure what she was expecting!

 

Hermione was stuck to my side throughout the whole day and only seemed to leave me to dance with Harry. 

 

Never to be one left behind, Harry made the next big leap when six months after he married Gin, they announced she was pregnant. Mum cried again and George declared that the Weasley men (and Harry) were going out to celebrate Harry getting their sister knocked up.

 

They of course called her Lily.

 

The day she was born we sat in St. Mungo’s with Mum an Dad. Everyone else was sent to the Burrow to wait. It seems six brothers, six partners and Mum and Dad were too many people to be standing around in a waiting room. Lily took her time but at last Harry came stumbling through the doors, covered in sweat, looking like he’d just been told there was a mistake and Voldemort was still alive and living as a woman in Brighton. 

 

‘It’s a girl!’ He says. ‘I’m a Dad!’ A look of shock was replaced by unadulterated delight, which turned to absolute fear. Then he fainted and I got a smack on the arm for laughing at him. 

 

When he came to, we followed him in to see Ginny and he introduced us to his new daughter. I’ve never seen him look so proud.

 

However, she screams like a banshee, smells like a Hippogriff’s ass (sometimes), eats like she’s been starved for weeks (Surely a Weasley trait), and has very unpredictable bouts of spontaneous magic when she gets grouchy (Definitely a Potter trait!). She is cute though, in a sort of gross way. But I think I love her more for making Harry go green every half an hour. 

 

When we went over to see them after they got out of hospital, Hermione would hold Lily tenderly and brush her fingers through her dark red hair. Lily seemed to like her as she cooed at her softly. I think that’s when I realised how our relationship had changed again.

 

One night we came home and just as we were about to make love, Hermione went rigid and scrabbled around trying to find her wand. She’d forgotten to take her potion and was just about to cast the spell that prevented me from having even more brothers, when I stopped her. I put my hand on her arm and lowered her wand. 

 

She thought I didn’t want to have sex, although given our state of undress and the rather obvious indication to the contrary that was sticking up in between us, I’m not sure how she came to that particular conclusion. I don’t think she believed me when I explained that perhaps not using protection wasn’t such a bad thing and that I wouldn’t object at all if we got pregnant. 

 

But never the less, her face brightened and after a few more confirmations that I wasn’t joking or possessed, we made love with no protection for the very first time. 

 

Now as we all know, Hermione never tends to do things by halves. She began to feverishly plan for a pregnancy; cycles, charts, maternity leave, nursery plans and the like. She began to annoy me and if I’m really honest, I had a twinge of regret about mentioning it on occasion. 

 

There was no need to be so clinical about it. She looked so damn sexy telling me when and how we were going to shag that we never had any problem with the act itself. But then again, being told what to do by Hermione has always been a vice of mine. 

 

So here we are. 

 

Ever keen to not let the Weasley side down, my little guys did the job fairly promptly and this morning, when she woke me up like it was our honeymoon and took everything I had despite my insistence that we shouldn’t waste an opportunity, she crawled up my body and told me we didn’t have to worry about that any more because we were having a baby. 

 

Later I walked into our front room and waited for Harry to floo in. That photo catches my attention and in my minds eye I see pictures of our children, family holidays and birthdays joining it on our mantle. 


End file.
